


From May to December

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: X-Men Evolution, X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Cunnilingus, Danger Room, F/M, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the ballad of Charles and Jean, in five movements. Set between "Evolution" and the original animated series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

1.

When Jean kisses him for the first time, Charles is hardly surprised. He is, after all, a renowned telepath, and Jean, in all of her sixteen-year-old glory, is hardly good at shielding her true feelings from him. Still, when Jean leans in one day and presses her lips chastely to his, Charles calmly waits until she's finished, and then pulls away gently, even as he pats her tenderly on the cheek.

"What's wrong?" Jean asks, and her big, green eyes are hurt, though perhaps strategically so, because her mouth is downright pouty. She twirls a strand of red hair around her finger, and Charles stifles a sigh. "Don't you like me, Professor?"

"Of course I do," Charles replies automatically, nodding his head. "But," he tells her kindly, "you're very young."

"Not that young," Jean protests.

"Extremely young," Charles emphasizes firmly. He steeples his fingers. "I won't presume to guess at your feelings, Jean. However, I am asking you to wait until you're of legal age to try anything like this again. All right?"

"All right," Jean replies reluctantly. In all honesty, Charles assumes that Jean's fascination, crush, admiration, whatever will peter off over the course of the next couple of years. However, scant months after turning 18, she's there again, this time demanding that Charles sees her as an equal, as the object of lust that she's determined to present herself as. "I still want this, Professor," Jean tells him as she straddles his lap, and Charles uneasily reaches around to cup her waist. "I still want you."

The first time is mostly about her. Charles has a long, black, leather couch in his office, the kind that therapists use, on which Jean and several of his other students have all taken up residence frequently throughout the years. Jean spreads herself out on it now, her long hair floating around her like that of a mythical sea creature, her pale, pink thighs quivering slightly, even as she opens them for Charles. He places a hand on her bare stomach and smiles up at her. "If you've changed your mind about this ..." he begins, intent on assuring her that he understands and that this is only ever about what she wants, but Jean cuts him off, clutching at her breasts (she's wearing pink nail polish, Charles notices, and her fingers are very well-manicured) and frowning needily up at him.

He bends slowly, parting her folds carefully, first with his fingers, and then lapping at her cunt with his tongue, around the clit and then plunging in deeper, until Jean is gasping and practically straddling his head with her thighs and he has to clutch at her hips to keep her from arching off of the chair altogether. When he switches momentarily to long, languid swipes with his tongue, she relaxes somewhat, and he reaches up and begins leisurely fumbling with her breasts, tugging lightly at her nipples, pinching and cupping, until she's gasping and moaning prettily beneath him and comes with a shriek that she muffles by biting the back of her own hand. "God ..." Jean shivers, and Charles politely wipes his mouth with a tissue, and helps her into a sitting position. "You don't have to do anything in return," he begins to tell her, but then she's shoving herself anew into his lap, and her skin is warm and flushed as she wraps her limbs around him, and he lets himself give in.

He still gives a little start when Jean's fingers wrap around his penis. "J-Jean, really," he mutters, but she smiles and shushes him, and then begins jacking him off, and she's good at it, and he wonders idly not for the first time whether she and Scott have gotten intimate yet. Probably, he thinks, as he feels her cupping his balls. He makes a surprised whining sound when Jean succeeds in bringing him off, his chest heaving as he slowly regains his composure. "Thank you," Jean tells him as she watches him reaffix his clothing, and then leans in again and kisses him, with tongue this time. "I love you, Professor," Jean says as she saunters out of the room, shutting the door with a quiet firmness in her wake, and Charles sighs and sets about making sure his chair contains no remnants of whatever just happened, just in case another student should end up gracing his presence and needing a place to sit.

2.

It's initially proposed as a training session, but Jean's feeling a little adventurous, and Charles siphons the fantasy from her surface thoughts, and decides that he can make do.

She floats in the air, buffered by the technology of the Situation Room, arms bound behind her back with thin manacles, a ball gag stuffed in her mouth. It was Jean's idea for her uniform to be torn strategically in places, and Charles can't help but appreciate the way that her tits bounce with the effort of unsuccessfully freeing herself from her bonds. "Hmmm," Jean groans, and Charles can see a line of drool sprouting from the space between the gag and her lower lip.

"Now, now," he admonishes her, and depresses the button on the remote in his hand that will speed up the vibrations of the device buried deep inside of Jean's pussy. She bucks and gasps furiously, and he smiles. From her mind, he gleans the sensations that she's feeling: The thrusts of the vibrator; the tension created by the butt-plug; the tug of nipple clamps; and resists the urge to reach down and fondle himself. "All you have to do is use your mutation to free yourself, Jean," he tells her sweetly, and wonders whether his prized student is going to be able to beat him at this little game before her fourth orgasm overtakes her. Either way, he decides as he ramps up the speed of the vibrator another notch, hearing her gurgle, they'll both come out of this triumphant.

3.

They lose Jean to the Phoenix, and everybody mourns. Scott, in particular, is noticeably dour, though Charles can tell that it hits the entire team pretty hard. For his part, he tries to retain his usual decorum, and to offer his open ear to all who might need it.

When she comes to him, he's in bed, though her presence rouses him rather quickly. "Jean," he gasps, and she smiles down at him.

"I am the Phoenix, now," she tells him, and her clothing melts away. She's beautiful underneath, and before Charles can swing himself out of bed, or even find some sort of mental recourse, she's upon him, pressing herself length-wise along his prone frame. She's nude and warm and she certainly feels like Jean, and Charles shivers. "Your power entices me," she breathes, and he tastes her neck, and her skin is sweet. "I could feel it, running over me, wrapping around me, like a blanket. Our fates are inextricably entwined, Charles Xavier," she murmurs, and then they're kissing furiously, and Charles groans and feels the brush of Jean's pubic hairs against his crotch, and he realizes with some shame that he's hard.

"Take me, Professor," the creature murmurs through Jean, and she ruts and scoots around until Charles gives in and sinks his cock into the warm wetness of Jean's cunt, sobbing as it presses in to the hilt, and then clutching and throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut when she continues moving, frantically, like their lives depend on this. Not satisfied with Charles' despondence, the Phoenix arches her neck and grips at Charles' face and neck, sealing their lips together, moaning appreciatively when Charles gives in and tugs her closer, moving incrementally - as well as he can for a man paralyzed at the waist, at least - and shivers when he feels what he's doing to Jean's body through the Phoenix's mind. There's something different, mystical about the Phoenix's brain; Charles isn't naive enough to assume that he would be able to penetrate it even remotely without the Phoenix's express consent in such matters, and even now, he knows he's only skimming the surface of its power. Though beautiful, he finds the mind of the creature cold, even barren, and for the first time, he wonders if Jean is well and truly gone.

Reading his thoughts, the Phoenix smiles down at him beatifically. "Jean is where she needs to be," it tells him, and Charles can feel Jean's hips snapping up. He palms her nipples, feeling how they're peaked, the delightful, small bumps along her areolas. "She would want this, too," the Phoenix assures him, and for some reason, it heartens him. When she bends down, Jean's red hair falls around his head like a curtain. "She loves you very much, Professor," the Phoenix purrs, and then they're kissing again, and Charles can feel the somewhat familiar strains of Jean's impending orgasm, and it's easy enough to ride the wave to get himself off as well.

When she's finished, she stays a while, kissing and licking and petting, her thin form curled around Charles' side, watching him lovingly as his eyelids grow heavy. "I do not need sleep," she tells him matter-of-factly, "but you do." She kisses each of his eyelids, and then stands and stretches her arms above her head, her body luminous in the moonlight. Then, without another word, she carries herself out of the window in a burst of fiery light, and Charles brushes away an errant tear, watching her go.

4.

There's something quietly intimate about Jean making him tea, something private and rather wonderful when she presents him a warm cup on a saucer, when she admonishes him with her usual, playful finger-waggling to "drink it carefully, it's hot, Professor."

"Thank you, Jean," he murmurs. As usual, he savors the scent of the drink first, allowing his nose to inhale deeply the vapors as they curl around his face. When he takes the first sip, Jean stands and watches him expectantly, thrumming with slight anxiety until he assures her that, yes, "it's wonderful. Thank you." Then, and only then, does her face reflect her disposition, her beaming smile bright and filling the otherwise dusky sitting room.

"You know, Professor," Jean tells him after several minutes of pleasant silence, and he looks up curiously. "I never properly thanked you for writing me that letter of recommendation. I'm sure it was the biggest reason I got into that fast-track medical school program on scholarship."

Charles smiles warmly. "I think your grades and exuberant personality outshined my hasty summary of your achievements," he tells her, and she rolls her eyes.

"So modest," she scoffs, and then she slips effortlessly to her knees. "I really do appreciate it," she tells him, and Charles swallows a mouthful of tea a little bit more roughly than he intends when Jean's palm rubs over his crotch. "Ssshh, just relax," she tells him when he starts to protest. Her eyes twinkle, even as she licks her lips in a lascivious way. "You've earned this, Professor."

The blow-job is slow and methodical, and Charles manages to finish his tea, parsing it out between sips and groans, as Jean licks his balls, as her talented mouth swirls around his cockhead and along his length, finally allowing him to finish by coming down her throat. His hands shake a little as he sets the now-empty teacup and saucer on a nearby end table, and Jean smiles and wipes her face on his pants leg. "More tea?" she asks sweetly, and he laughs and politely shakes his head.

5.

Scott's not angry, per se, when he finds out that, in fact, all rumors of Jean's alleged special treatment by the professor turn out to be quite true. At the same time, he's not good at hiding his surprise or disgust in most situations, and the knowledge of just how deep Jean's relationship with Charles goes is not an exception to this rule. "I'm sorry you've found out like this," Charles tells him placidly, and decides that he probably needs to keep a better lock on this door, or figure out who might have seen what, and eradicate the memory before it can spread around any further. He spreads his hands, and Scott continues to frown at him stiffly. "I understand if you're upset, Scott."

Scott cocks his head. "Not surprised, I guess," he finally offers. "I mean, I'm sure I wasn't the only one wondering what she did to get that new car." Before Charles can protest that it's not like that, Scott shrugs. "I know. She's your favorite student. It's complicated. I get it, Professor," he says, and finally, Charles realizes what's been troubling him more than anything.

"Scott, I care very much for you as well," he says soothingly, and Scott 'hmmphs'. "Really," Charles insists, wheeling himself slightly closer and placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "However, Jean came to me. I would never want to overstep a boundary, but she has long made it clear that this is her choice. Again, however, I don't expect it to be easy to understand, and I'm sorry that you've found out so abruptly."

Scott nods slowly. "I think I'll get over it. I just ..." he looks away and then back again, and Charles blinks. "Some of the stuff she does, what she already knows," Scott says, and Charles coughs briefly. "She's really good at it," he finishes, and Charles imagines that he's peering down at him intently. "Is it all from you, Professor?" Scott asks. "Does Jean get 'private lessons' from you in love-making?"

Charles can't help but chuckle. "In all honesty," he says, "Jean seems the naturally inquisitive, adventurous sort. Often, she seems to know more about these matters than I do." When Scott does not look fully convinced or satisfied, he makes a tentative offer: "Would you like to show me how you and Jean are together, Scott?" he asks, and then, before the boy can gape at him in disbelief, he quickly adds, "I can offer you ... suggestions, constructive criticism, as it seems fit."

Scott actually appears to consider this. "Yes," he finally says. "Okay. I want you to watch me fuck Jean, Professor."

 

*

 

They decide to do it in Scott and Jean's bedroom, because everyone seems to be the most comfortable in there, and Charles has no preference either way, so long as they aren't disturbed. He watches as Jean lounges atop the duvet cover, nude, her legs crossed, hair falling to her elbows in long, silky-looking tresses. "Thank you for doing this, Professor," she tells him, and he nods.

"Of course."

Scott enters the room, also naked, save for his tell-tale glasses, his cock erect. He approaches the bed, and bends so that he can kiss Jean, who leans forward, palms against the mattress, sticking her chest out proudly. It's here that Charles gives his first instruction: "Kiss her again, slowly," he murmurs, and Scott does. Of their own accord, his hands reach out to cup and fondle Jean's breasts, and he smirks when he hears Charles say, "good, Scott. Excellent."

She sprawls across the bed next, long hair splaying around her head against the pillows, and Scott begins to straddle her. "First, some more attention to her nipples, I think," Charles suggests, and Scott resists lying across her now, opting instead for settling himself on his haunches so that his hands and arms are free to continue toying with Jean's tits. Jean's head falls back, her pink, lipsticked mouth falling open as she moans, and both of the men in the room smile at her. "Keep going," Charles urges, and Scott takes one of Jean's nipples into his mouth, laving across it with his tongue, suckling until Jean's hand is kind of shoving at his head, and then he switches to the other tit and does the same thing. Large hands run down the smooth planes of Jean's stomach, and now Scott is at the juncture of her legs, which Jean is parting eagerly, and Scott can tell from the musky scent that his girlfriend is quite aroused by the events. He cranes his neck briefly. "What now, Professor?" he queries, and Charles inclines his head.

"Now, you make sure she's good and wet," Charles says, and Scott begins to trace one finger along the edges of Jean's vagina, eventually slipping it inside and wiggling it around slowly. "Aaahh," Jean shivers, and Charles seems encouraged by this.

"Again. Add another finger. Then perhaps, if you're up to it, use your tongue a bit."

Scott nods, and does as he is bade. Before long, he's swabbing at Jean's pussy with long, flat strokes, his fingers working into her as well, loosening her up, preparing her for what's to come. "Yes, ohhh, Scott, yes," Jean tells him, and he gives her one last lick before sitting up, making his way to where his palms are resting just above her shoulders, pressed into the mattress to support his weight. "Ready, Jean?" he asks her, and she nods and bites her lip. He slides into her quite easily, then, and Jean moans and tosses her head back and forth and clutches at Scott's back and shoulders with her long-nailed fingers. Behind them, Charles decides to check in.

"Excellent, Scott. Make sure to continue thinking about her pleasure, of course. Don't just get yourself off, now."

"Of course, Professor." He visibly seems to change the way his hips thrust, then, re-angling himself, the slight difference methodical and aimed at Jean's pleasure. He can tell by the increase in her appreciative moaning that it's done its job. "Come on, Jean," he murmurs, kissing her neck, the underside of her jaw. "Come on, baby girl."

Soon enough, Jean's shivering and fisting Scott's thick hair and screaming as her orgasm hits, and Scott groans happily and leans down to kiss and suck at her sore-ish nipples, palming her waist, still aroused. He looks to the professor for approval, and Charles nods at them both, smiling. "Now, Jean," Charles says cordially, steepling his fingers. "If Scott were to, say, put it in your ass, would you be willing to let him?"

Jean giggles. "Sure," she grins, and Scott's pretty sure his dick just got harder. Soon enough, he's hauled Jean up on all fours, rubbing the juices from their previous love-making around in her ass hole with his fingers, prepping her rather quickly, his cock dripping pre-come on the bedding. He's gratified when he finally hears Charles say, "all right, Scott, I think she'll be able to take it, now," and shoves himself kind of hard into Jean's backside, shoving a few more times to find the pace. Once more, his hands grip and tug at her waist, her breasts. At one point, he reaches out and smacks her ass, leaving a soft imprint on her flushed skin. "Scott, so good," Jean tells him happily, and Scott is kind of furiously kneading her breasts now, feeling himself starting to lose control. When he finally comes, he dumps his load with an appreciative groan into Jean, and then pulls out, panting, chest heaving, bangs matted a little to his forehead. Jean immediately reaches for him, and he acquiesces, sidling up next to her on the mattress, wrapping protective arms around her thin frame.

He hears Charles clear his throat politely, and looks up again. "Quite splendid work, both of you," Charles insists, and Scott sees Jean beam. Idly, he wonders if part of this involves Charles' pleasure, too, but the other man is already wheeling himself towards the door, a serene smile on his face. "I'll see you both later," he acknowledges, and then they're alone. As Jean rolls over and murmurs in her sleep, Scott continues stroking the soft skin of her back, and considers the nature of sharing her with the professor. Eventually, he decides, if these are the benefits, he thinks he can deal, and then Jean snuggles closer to him, and he smiles and nods off, still holding her in his arms.


	2. Back in the Danger Room

"I don't even think you're trying," Charles tells Jean fondly after the fifth and sixth orgasms leave her panting weakly, still dangling in the air. He shuts off the simulation, and waits until the Situation Room deposits her on a long table before wheeling himself over to inspect the damage.

He rubs a hand affectionately over her forehead, and then brushes away errant tears at the corner of Jean's eyes. "Good, yes?" he queries, and she nods quickly, and then he hears her moan wantonly when he removes the ball gag, absently wiping her chin as it's pulled away, dripping with her saliva. "Professor," Jean groans, and Charles smiles down at her.

"Such a good girl, Jean." He continues south, removing the nipple clamps next, first one and then the other, and then cups the girl's sore breasts gently, thumbing over her bruised nipples in a way that is both gentle and arousing. "Please," Jean balks, and, unable to resist, Charles finds himself bending so he can tongue over her tits, laving them liberally for several moments, suckling and even nipping a bit until Jean is keening and arching off of the flat surface.

"Are you still aroused?" Charles asks her, and now he's undoing the bindings around her ankles, and then moving methodically back up, in order to part her legs. The device inside of Jean's cunt is still making a soft whirring noise, and Charles gingerly pulls it out, switching it off, and chuckling when the movement brings with it a string of curses and whines from Jean. "God, fuck, Professor, p-please, it won't take long," Jean cries, and Charles' fingers slip inside of her, rubbing around her soaking wet pussy, circulating around her clit with just the slightest bit of roughness, until Jean is shoving her crotch into the air and sobbing as Charles' hand brings her off yet again. "Thank you," she gasps, and Charles nods.

The buttplug is next. "I liked it," Jean comments as Charles removes it, placing it near Jean's legs on the table. "It made me feel ... filled," she observes. He helps her into a sitting position, and then unbinds her wrists, the last piece of bondage. He watches Jean flex her wrists and raises an eyebrow. "Decent simulation," Jean finally says, and Charles grins.

"Indeed."

Jean wobbles a little when she stands, but eventually steadies herself, and then accepts the bathrobe proffered by Charles. "So much for this uniform," she jokes, and then, impulsively, bends and kisses Charles on the cheek. "Thank you," she murmurs again, and then grins. "Too bad this isn't what was going on, all those days I missed school," she muses.

Charles rolls his eyes. "Convincing Principal Darkholme that your chronic migraines were a legitimate medical condition was difficult enough," he groans, and they exit the Situation Room together, the professor locking it carefully as he goes.


End file.
